Dear Emmaline
by cwby30
Summary: After the fight at the trailhead, a letter published in an advice column in the newspaper makes Ennis rethink his relationship with Jack, and sends him on a trip to Lightning Flat to find Jack, but there he meets more than Jack and his parents.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Whatever possessed him to do such a thing, he never would know. But he did it. And for that he would be forever grateful to the brave soul who wrote that letter.

With his poor eyesight he had no use for newspapers. Instead, he got all the news he needed from the radio in his truck, when it worked, and talking with the guys at work and at the feedstore, and from watching TV. But that Wednesday afternoon arriving home after work at the ranch, he found a newspaper stuck in the battered round newspaper holder that hung tenuously onto to his weathered mailbox post. He figured it was a mistake, but couldn't leave it there to blow away, so he brought it into the house intending to use it to pack up the garbage from the kitchen sink after dinner.

Instead, he dropped it on the couch with his coat and hat, and forgot all about it until later, after dinner, when he sat down and turned on the TV. He looked over and could make out the headline, "MASSIVE PILEUP CLOSES HIGHWAY," and the line under it, "Horse Trailer Overturns, 3 Killed," and the city, "Gillette." He thought of all those years and miles Jack had driven just to see him, and then heading up to see his folks, often driving through Gillette. Without warning that niggling ever-present tamped-down fear, that Jack may someday be part of headlines like that, flooded unwanted into the front of his mind.

He shivered despite the May heat-wave, not hearing the TV, watching the imagined scene flash before him in spurts, like flipping through pictures one after the other. Those scenes had come unwanted and unbidden more often in the past few days, since their fight at the trailhead on Sunday, the last day of their always-too-short time together. Jack had said he was driving up to his folks' place as usual. Did Jack get… get… Was he…?

He reached over to the sidetable next to the couch and grasped the reading glasses Francine had brought him two weekends ago, before his trip. She had insisted that he use them, so he could read her name in the Riverton High School Class of 1983 graduation program next month, and read her letters from college in the Fall. College! His little baby girl was heading off to the University in Laramie in September, and then to God knows where! But he understood where, to a better life than he or his folks ever had.

The rerun of the Grand Ol' Opry played on in the background as he read the full story, relieved not to find Jack's name anywhere, then he idly flipped through the rest of the paper. In Section 3 he found two pages of the funnies, and smiled, sort of, when he read "Peanuts" but couldn't understand "Doonesbury." _Maybe if I read it more often… like that was ever going to happen_.

Then he found the horoscopes. _Lemme see… September… Virgo… What the…?! _He read, "There's a lot of good that can be said of being on autopilot. It gets you to the destination with little effort. The problem with it arises when you want to go somewhere other than where you're programmed to go."

_There's somewhere I wanta go, somewhere I ought a be, not here, but goin there would be dangerous, could get me… us… hurt, even…_ He shivered in the warm stifling air of the room.

He shook off those dark thoughts and flipped to the back page of Section 3, where he saw the crossword puzzle and a double-column called "Dear Emmaline." People asked her for advice about all sorts of stuff, things he would never write down, let alone want printed in a newspaper for everyone to read, even if they did change the names just in case. 'My sister is more popular than me, but I get better grades, what should I do?' 'My in-laws hate me, my wife ignores me, what should I do?' 'My neighbor keeps trying to sell me Tupperware I don't want, what should I do?' 'My girlfriend left me for my brother, then he dumped her, now she wants to get back together, what should I do?' 'My husband quit his job three times, won't look for work, I had to get a job to make ends meet, my best girlfriend understands and listens to me, now I have feelings for my best friend, she's a lesbian, she wants our friendship to be more than what it is, I do too, but I'm not sure, my family won't accept homosexuality, I'm scared about being seen in public with her, I'm scared about what might happen to her, what should I do?'

He stared in disbelief at her words printed in the afternoon paper, for all to read in their living rooms and office waiting rooms and barber shops. A woman wrote a letter to a stranger, revealing what could get her killed. She has feelings for another woman, but is scared. _Scared!_ "What should I do?" _What should I do? _

Reading on he found Emmaline's terse advice. The issue was her fear of disapproval and embarrassment, it was her choice to ignore or follow her feelings, either way she would pay a price, she should be true to herself, but think long and hard before acting.

_What should I do?_

_There's somewhere I want a go, somewhere I ought a be, but going there would be dangerous, could get me… us… hurt, even…_ _What should I do? _

The words echoed in his mind. He no longer could see the words or feel the paper grasped in his now trembling hands or hear Minnie Pearl's singing coming from the TV. All he could see, feel and hear were four important little words repeating over and over, forming a life-determining mantra: _What should I do? What should I do? _

He crumpled the offending paper savagely and flung it across the room. It bounced off the wall and came to rest on the dusty hardwood floor under the front porch window. The curtains fluttering from stray puffs of warm wind covered it and pulled it close to the wall, as if protecting it from further violence.

He got off the couch, and started pacing, chain smoking until he couldn't stand it. Each time he got close to the rumpled ball of offending newspaper, the curtains fluttered, telling him to back off, no answers here, only more questions.

_There's somewhere I want a go, somewhere I ought a be. _

_Met my best friend in the whole world for sex in the mountains for 16 years, almost twenty, really, countin that first summer, he wants us to live together, always has, I do too, but I've refused, I'm afraid of what might happen to him, to us, if we do, I'm afraid of what might happen to him, to us, if we don't, I'm scared about being seen with him, I'm no queer, my father hated queers, maybe killed one, but my father's dead, been dead for over twenty years, why am I still afraid of him, what should I do? _

But he already knew. He had known since that first year after marrying Alma, laying beside her in the dark, listening to her measured breathing in sleep, watching her belly grow larger with each passing day. He never should have let Jack go. But by then it was too late.

He knew. He had known since that first time seeing Jack after four long years, laying beside him in the dark in the Siesta Motel, spooned up against him, arm around him, feeling his measured breathing in sleep. He never should have let Jack go. But he did again, over and over, again and again.

He knew. He had known since that time Jack showed up at his house, unexpectedly, ten years ago, after his divorce from Alma, turning Jack away, glimpsing his crestfallen face in the rear view mirror of his truck as he pulled away. He never should have let Jack go. But he did again, over and over, again and again.

He knew. He had known since last Sunday, running away after arguing over not meeting in August, really arguing over twenty years of hurt and denial and lost lives and lost hope, watching Jack in the rear view mirror of his own truck this time as he fled the scene that was littered with the naked truths laid bare between them. He never should have let Jack go. But he did, again. Maybe for the last time.

_It's my fears that've stood in the way, my "maybes" and "mights", I can follow my true feelins or not, it's my choice, either way I'll pay a price, but we've both paid a big price already over the past 20 years, it's been long enough, I don't got a think hard about it any more, I got a be true to myself, face down those fears, face down my dead father, do something._

_What should I do?_

He knew. He had to fix this, right now, because he couldn't stand it any more and he knew Jack wouldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Next morning found him hundreds of miles from home.

He was prepared for a small poor ranch like the one he started growing up on. He was not prepared for the desolation and isolation, the miles upon miles of abandoned houses and abandoned fields, and the abandoned hopes and lives they represented. Now they only served to drive home what he already knew, that Jack had come from here, still came back here, had once held hope to live better than here, and that he, Ennis Del Mar, had contributed to the desolation now in Jack's eyes and to his abandoned hopes.

He promised himself that he would replace the desolation with happiness and revived hope.

He read the name on the leaning mailbox, "John C. Twist," and turned in. The dust streaming from behind his truck heralded his approach. He recognized Jack's truck parked near the barn, camping equipment still secured in the back, glad to see Jack had not left. Parking next to Jack's truck, some of the dust caught up with him, settling on and around both trucks. He remained in his own for a few minutes, pondering his next move, afraid to get out, afraid not to get out, scared of the price he would pay either way. Finally, he opened the door and moved towards the house.

A stout woman, careful in her movements, answered his knock on the screened door at the front of the house. He doffed his hat, out of reflex upon meeting a woman and out of respect for the woman who must be Jack's mother.

"May I help you, young man? Are you lost?"

"Hope so, ma'am. Not lost, though. Is Jack here? Can I talk with him?"

"Who's calling?"

"Ennis, ma'am, Ennis Del Mar."

"Oh, I thought you were someone else. Nice to meet you finally. Jack's told us all about you. I'm his mother, Emma. Won't you come in?" She backed away, and allowed Ennis to enter. The screened door banged shut hard behind him.

_All about me?!_

"Nice to meet you, too, ma'am, and thank you."

"They're out checking the herd and fencing, should be back in a little bit. Lunch is at noon, and Jack's father is always prompt for meals."

_Guess Jack comes by it naturally, needin food all the time._

She led the way to the back of the house, where they entered a small white-washed kitchen. Ennis looked around. Everything was white, except a lively border of yellow flowers on the tablecloth, echoed in the trim on the white curtains and on the towel protecting the clean dishes in the dishdrain.

"Please, sit down. Can I offer you a cup of coffee or a glass of water, maybe something to eat?"

"Um, a cup of coffee would be nice, if you don't mind. Black is fine. Nothin to eat, though."

"Don't mind at all." The silence surrounded them as Emma carefully walked over to the dishdrain, picked out a cup, and walked over to the stove, and poured a cup of hot coffee from the glass percolator warming on the white enamel and nickel-plated stove. She placed the cup in front of Ennis, and then got one for herself, before sitting down across from him.

"What brings you all the way up here today? Jack's been saying for years that one of these days the two of you will come up here to live and lick this place into shape." She sighed quietly, before continuing. "Then Monday night he said he was gonna divorce Lureen and bring up somebody different, somebody new." She looked absently out the window, touching a heart-shaped silver locket worn on a silver chain around her neck. "Sure would be nice, having this place running good again, like it was when…" She turned back and smiled wanly at him. "Shouldn't be bothering you with them old things that can't be changed."

Ennis had frozen for a split second when Emma told him what Jack had said. _They know? He told them about us livin here? Damn fool! But, she didn't say nothin bad. And she's still sittin here, offering me food and coffee, just about askin me to stay on. Was Jack right after all, that his Daddy's a mean sonofabitch but wouldn't tell a soul? That his Momma's a good woman, accepts him as he is, despite her religion? That maybe it really isn't nobody's business but ours? Wait! Somebody different? Somebody new? What the hell?_ His head pounded, but he recovered enough to sip his coffee without trembling as Emma turned back from looking out the window, before responding.

"Old things can't be changed, but doesn't mean we have to keep on doin them, does it?" he replied.

"Sure enough, Ennis, sure enough. Still, things can't change unless you want to change them, and wanting and doing are two different things." She smiled. "My Gramma used to tell me, 'Now, Emma, honey, if wishes were horses, even beggars would ride. If you really want something, you gotta do something about it.' And my momma would nod her head and say 'That's a fact, Emmy dear.' Sure do miss my Gramma sometimes. Miss my momma even more."

"Miss mine too."

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I didn't realize…"

"It's okay, she died when I was fourteen."

"And you still miss her." A statement.

"Yes, I do."

"Good."

Ennis looked up, startled.

"If you miss someone when they're gone, it means either you loved them so much or hated them so much that you can't let go. Your way of talking tells me you loved your momma, so it's good that you miss her and keep her memory alive."

_Don't ask about my daddy! Please don't ask._

"But here I go on and on, just like an old woman, which I definitely am not. You must be tired after that long drive, and lunch is coming up soon. You will stay for lunch, won't you?"

"Um, yes, thank you, ma'am."

"Bathroom's upstairs on the left, go ahead and wash up before lunch. While you're up there, you can take a look at Jack's room, right across from the bathroom. It's just about the same as it was when he left to go rodeoing back in '64, didn't want me to change a thing. He did give in a bit about five years ago and bought a new bed, bigger too. Said the old one was too hard, like sleeping on the ground, and this one's a lot more comfortable. His arthritis, you know, from the crushed vertebrae and all those broken bones getting thrown over the years."

_No, I didn't know. He hardly ever complained about sleepin on the ground, said the aches came from all our ridin inside and outside of the tent, just started bringin a air mattress. Oh, Jack!_

Once again, he blamed himself for not reading the signs. He could follow a lost calf for miles over solid rock in a rainstorm in the dark, but he had missed so many signs, ignored so many others, that he had lost the trail to the real Jack.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After washing up, he slowly walked across the hall and hesitated before crossing the threshold into Jack's little room. His hands trembled as he touched the desk, the carving of a horse, the dusty gun rack holding a Red Ryder BB gun, the shelf with old family pictures in frames. He sat in the chair and looked down the driveway and the gravel road beyond it, and thought of Jack sitting there, years on years, half his life before Ennis, half his life after, hoping and planning to be free of this place and follow his dreams, then hoping to make this place the place of his dreams. Jack would never be free of this place or his dreams, and over the last twenty years Ennis had made sure that his dreams would not be followed.

Turning away from the pain of those memories, his eyes ran over the contents of the open space that acted as a closet in the room. Shirts, jeans, belts, boots, some old some new. Recognizing the jacket Jack had worn last weekend, he walked over to touch it, pulled a sleeve to his nose, breathed in the smell of smoke, sage, dust, dirt, sweat, sex and all those other comforting scents of Jack. Letting go, he saw some blue cloth sticking out from a side cubby. Curious, he reached in and pulled it out. A shirt, actually two shirts, one inside the other, outside a blue chambray shirt with dirt on the sleeve, like Jack used to wear back in the days when…

Suddenly he felt light-headed. The dirt on the sleeve wasn't dirt. The dirt was dried blood, his and Jack's blood. The shirt inside was his shirt, carefully tucked inside Jack's, held by Jack, protected by Jack. For the last twenty years. As he stood with the shirts in his grasp, he finally grasped what he meant to Jack, and finally admitted to himself what Jack meant to him.

_All these years… all these years… I pushed him away, shot down and stomped on his dreams, the better idea he used to have… all these years…he always came back to me… all these years…he's loved me… and… and I've loved him..._

And that scene in the meadow on their last day twenty years ago popped out in front of him, jerking forward, each little bit like a separate picture, then all the pictures running together, like the old nickelodeon with the side handle back at Marshall's drugstore in Sage. Then other scenes popped up. More pictures, running together, around him. Then postcards, his postcards, Jack's postcards, they all became postcards. They all moved around him, wherever he looked, postcards of Jack, of his life with Jack, and of his life without Jack, good times and bad times, swirling around him, gathering speed and force, until he felt caught inside a tornado, but not moving himself, just caught, unable to go forward or backward, always the postcards, now more with Jack than without, now all with Jack, only with Jack, good times and bad times, until only one remained on all of the postcards swirling before him: Jack of last Sunday, Jack disappointed, Jack without the light in his eyes, Jack without hope. He looked down and found his feet rooted firmly in the soil of Wyoming, Jack swirling about him, Jack's life revolving around him, tugging at him, asking him to move, but him unable to move, Jack always on the move, coming, going, beckoning, but him unable to move. Then Jack's face on the postcards changed, now vacant, unmoving, contorted, broken, bloody, eyes empty and unseeing yet looking through him, all swirling around him, taunting him, haunting him, his worst fears realized.

He recoiled into himself, and hugged the shirts tighter, seeking comfort, finding some, but still unable to move.

_What should I do?_ he howled into the whirlwind without making a sound. _How can I fix this? What should I do?_

_You already know._

A wisp of a woman materialized before him, dressed in a dark long-sleeved dress that went down to the floor and up to her neck, gray hair pulled into bun in back, a heart-shaped silver locket hanging from a silver chain around her neck, inside the maelstrom with him yet unaffected by it, almost a part of it, looking right at him, stern, her lips pressed together. He looked back, unable to escape those blue eyes boring into his soul. _Jack's eyes!_ Her lips never moved, but he felt and heard every word she said, and he responded without making a sound.

_But how can I?_

_How can you not? What are you afraid of?_

_What if …_

_What if what? What are you afraid of?_

_What if it's too late? What if he don't…he don't…_

_Doesn't love you any more?_

_NO… NO…Don't say that!_

_Why not? What are you afraid of?_

_Because…because I love him and he has to still love me… see, the shirts!_

_Then you already know what you should do._

_I know, but…_

_But what? What more are you afraid of?_

_What if… what if it's too late and I lose him…_

_What if it isn't, and you don't, and you still lose him? _

_I can't lose him, no! I can't! But…_

_But what? What do you fear the most?_

_What if I do, and someone finds out, and…he ends up… like Earl…because of me! I couldn't stand it!_

_Then fix it!_

_If I try to, I could lose him forever, and I can't lose him, not to no tire irons, no!_

_You will if you don't try! They will if you don't try! Could you stand it forever, no Jack forever, lose him forever, because you didn't try? Death is forever. Forever! _

_No… NO…_

_Then you know what to do. _

_Yes! I know! I KNOW WHAT TO DO!_

_Then what are you waiting for? If you really want it, you gotta do something about it! Fix it! Face your worst fear! Stop wishing like a beggar, mount up, grab those reins and ride! Do it! Fix it!_

And just as suddenly as it started, the maelstrom stopped. The postcards tumbled down around him, like spent leaves in late September, each disappearing in a spark as it touched the worn planks of the wood floor. The wisp of a woman dissembled like smoke from a dying fire rising through the pines. Once again he stood alone in Jack's room.

_Do it! Fix it!_ echoed in his mind.

Exhausted and dizzy, Ennis stumbled backwards and fell onto the bed, eyes now closed, still clutching the shirts.

"I know, I will, I know, I will," he murmured over and over, his new personal life-determining mantra, until he slipped into dreamless unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Gradually he climbed up from the depths of unconsciousness. Eyes closed, he moved his head back and forth, realized he was lying down, and tried to sit up. It didn't work. He fell back, took a deep breath, exhaled and lay there experiencing a variety of emotions. He felt exhausted but invigorated, dizzy but centered, scared but fearless, hesitant but determined, alone but enfolded. _Why?_

This time he made it. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and sat, head in hands, elbows on knees. Cracking his eyes open, he looked downwards and saw a blue shirt in his lap. Smiling he grasped them to his chest. And then it hit him, the why.

_The shirts! The pictures! The maelstrom! The woman! _

He looked down at the floor, but found no trace of the postcards. He looked up at the rest of the room, but nothing was out of place to his eyes.

_Did that really happen?_

_Do it! Fix it!_ echoed in his mind.

_It must have happened. But…_

_Do it! Fix it!_ echoed in his mind.

This demand raised more questions than answers. Sure, he had to take charge of his life and make things right with Jack. But what did "fix it" mean, what was "right"? Agreeing to see Jack more often? Four times a year? Every month? All the time?

He shook his head, trying to dislodge those images from his youth, of what had been an older man, left mutilated in a ditch to die because of whom he lived with all the time, whom he loved, and then trying to dispel the hateful harsh words of his father that Earl deserved what happened to him just like all queers deserved it.

_NO! He didn't deserve that! Jack don't deserve that! I don't deserve that!_

He pressed both hands to the sides of his head, so it would not burst from all the emotions. He jumped up, forgetting that the shirts still remained in his lap. Suddenly remembering it, he grabbed for them and caught them before they could hit the floor and maybe disappear like the postcards from the maelstrom when they hit the floor.

_Did that really happen?_

The quick motions caused him to lose his balance and almost fall. Catching himself on the iron bedpost, he stumbled over to the window, and plopped down heavily in the chair. Desperate to fill his mind with other things, he looked about the room. He was surrounded by Jack, pieces of his life, all there, yet jumbled, waiting for someone to sort them out again, put them all together again in the right order. The small boy cowering from his father, the bitter teen forced to leave high school to work on the family ranch, the crestfallen youth finding and losing love in one summer, the young man running away towards another dream, the older man coming back again and again.

_But why? Why come back here? Why come back again and again? Why endure the scorn and hate? Why? What is he lookin for here? What was he lookin for and dreaming about as a kid lookin out this window? What is he lookin for now? What does he hope to find? Why keep comin back when I kept turnin him away? Why?_

He heard no answers, only tears welling up, tears of frustration and pain, tears he could not stop even had he wanted to, tears falling drop by drop onto faded blue chambray. He thumbed over those tears, trying to wipe them away, as if by doing so he could at least wipe away the pain he had caused Jack. He discovered he could not, instead the tears became imbedded in the fabric, a part of it.

_Nothing ever comes easy to me, never!_

His frustration boiled over even more as he rubbed the fabric harder. And then stopped. His were not the only tears embedded in faded blue chambray. They joined others, long ago dried up. Layer upon layer. He was not the only person to hold these shirts and spill tears of sadness and frustration on them. Jack had spent years on years feeling this fabric, as he felt his hopes and dreams fade away.

He had his answer to "why" Jack came back here again and again. As Jack sat here, and looked around here, he could pretend he was a kid again, with his hopes and dreams still intact and his life still in front of him. Before rodeo, before Brokeback, before… before him, before Lureen and Bobby and LD, before disappointment after disappointment. Jack could put up with his father for a little while, so long as in return he could have time to sit and dream again.

And cry into the shirts. Cry for the love that Ennis would not acknowledge, cry for the dreams slipping away, cry for the little cow and calf operation that would never be. All because of him.

But he could fix that now, he could agree and move up here to live with Jack.

_But what if people find out about Jack and me? What would they do? What would _he_ do? _

But some people already knew about them. Jack's folks knew, and Jack was still alive and healthy. Alma knew, and he was still alive… well, sort of. Sometimes he though Don had figured it out, made sense if he did, offering the cabin more than that one time. Maybe others knew and said nothing.

They had been safe up on Brokeback, with no one around to see, no one to know. Or had they? Jack said Aguirre came up twice, and both times had some powerful field glasses. What if he..? What if he'd seen something?

_Shit! Bet that fucker saw us doin' it! Would explain why Jack changed after that, didn't wanta do it out on the meadow, had to be in the tent, or somewheres really private. Bet that's why Aguirre made us bring the damn sheep down early, too. And why he snarled at us that last day, and threw the money on the desk. Damn him! But…he didn't do nothing else, didn't pull out a tire iron or nothin… Paid us what we earned up to then, and just tossed us away, like we were trash. Maybe Jack was right, maybe most people don't like it, but they ain't gonna hurt ya, just turn their backs on ya. _

He remembered what he told Jack that summer, about this being a one-time thing between them. _One time thing is right, Jack fuckin Twist! One and only time for me, you're the one and only one for me. Knew durin that first year and every time after that I should never have let you outta my sight. Not going to make that mistake this time, not ever again. _

_But would Jack let me go now? Turn me away like I did after the divorce? That phone call to Somebody New! Has Jack really figured out how to quit me, like I dared him to do not even a week ago? What should I do? What if…? _

His previous resolve began to crumble, despite all he had gone through in this small room, despite the evidence of the shirts held tightly to his chest, despite the maelstrom and the woman's insistent voice.

_What if what? What are you afraid of? What is your worst fear?_ echoed in his mind.

_That voice!_

What was he afraid of? Losing Jack. How to keep him? He knew the answer. He knew what he had to do. Man up and tell him, tell Jack, accept Jack's love, and fight for it, fight to keep it and them both alive and well for as long as they lived.

_What are you afraid of?_

What was he afraid of? _Nothin, not no more!_

_Then what are you waiting for? Do it! Fix it!_

Voices from downstairs reached up him and penetrated his state of mind. He released his hold on the shirts just enough to check his old pocketwatch, and found that only twenty-one minutes had passed since he walked up the creaking stairs, not the eternity it felt inside.

He carefully slipped his shirt out from inside Jack's shirt, and put Jack's shirt inside his.

_My turn, Bud, my turn to hold you and protect you and love you and make our dreams come true. But twenty years won't be long enough, have to be double that at least. You'll see. _

Standing up on no longer wobbly legs, he looked about the room. Something had changed. He had changed. The room felt warm and inviting now. Made him smile, calmed him down. _No more cryin here!_

_Good! About time!_

Startled, Ennis looked about, saw no one.

_Did that really happen? Yeah, guess so, must have. Better to believe that than think I'm goin nuts._

Straightening up, he and the shirts, still safely held in his arms, walked downstairs together.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Expecting Jack, he laid eyes on somebody different. _Somebody New! Bet it's him, sonofabitch._

Six foot, dark hair, clean-shaven, heavier than both of them but solid, with hazel eyes that blazed at the sight of Ennis, wearing clothes that cost more than a month's wages to Ennis, out of place and uncomfortable standing in the kitchen of this rundown ranchhouse, out of place in their lives.

"There you are, Ennis." Somebody New's eyebrows went up over those blazing eyes when Emma spoke his name. "This here is Randall Malone, friend of Jack's, come all the way from Texas. Says Jack called him and wants to see him."

"That so?"

"That's so," responded Randall evenly.

"When'd he tell you that?"

"When he called Monday night."

"Too bad you drove all this way for nothin."

Randall frowned. "What's that supposed to mean."

"Mean what it is. Things changed since then."

"How so? Jack seemed pretty sure then."

"Like I said, things changed since then. I'm here now, and I'm not goin nowhere. Would be crowded with you here, too crowded. Best be on your way back where you came from."

"Not 'til I hear that from Jack."

Ennis took a step forward, closing in, real close. He spoke quietly, forcefully, no way to miss the meaning of his words, no response required or expected.

"Don't need Jack to tell you what you already know. Time to go, now, and not come back, and not call Jack and not see Jack again, ever. I'll let him know you decided not to take him up on what he said the other night, just passin through towards another life. Get my drift?"

Randall blinked, looked at Emma, looked back at Ennis, looked down at the shirts, looked up at Ennis. Swallowed. Got his drift.

Then straightened up. He would go, but not until he had said his own piece, expected or not.

"Yeah, I get your drift, now here's mine. I'll go, but not because you're telling me to go, I'll go because I care enough about Jack not to stand here next to you and make him choose between us. I've only known him for a year, and we've only been close, real close mind you, for the past six months. But I bet I know more than you do about what he wants and needs. And I bet you did something to him last week, didn't you? Put him off again, didn't you?"

Ennis stood there, not responding, confirming in silence the truth of the spoken words.

"Thought so. And who did he call Monday? Not you. And what did I do when he called? I came. What brought you here? Not a phone call from Jack, no, I bet it was your own guilty conscience. And I bet you're here to keep things as they were, meeting up once or twice a year, hiding away up in your windy Wyoming mountains somewhere. Well, that won't work any more for Jack. Hope you got the guts to stick it out full time with him, 'cause that's what he wants and all he'll take, all or nothing."

Ennis had heard enough.

"And that's what he'll be getting from me, all of it. Yeah, you're right, I made mistakes, a lot a them when it comes to Jack. But I had my reasons, so don't go judgin me. But that's in the past now. Like I said, things have changed, I'm here and I ain't leavin. Ever."

Randall moved in even closer, real close, invading space, close enough so their eyes could bore into each others eyes.

"Maybe so, but just you remember this. If you don't have the guts, or can't give him 'all', or chicken out down the line, he'll call me and I'll come, and I'll take him away from you and away from here in a heartbeat. Get that, Ennis Del Mar?"

"Yeah, I get it, Randall Malone. Just don't be waitin on that phone call," Ennis growled back.

Randall snorted, and then backed away, putting some space between them, but still pawing the dirt. He turned and nodded at Emma.

"I apologize for interrupting your day, Mrs. Twist, and if I upset you with those words. Thanks for your offer of hospitality, but I'll be going now. Please tell Jack I was here," he glanced at Ennis, "but changed my mind about staying."

And with that, he put his hat on and walked out the kitchen door, pulling it closed softly behind him. They heard the crunch of his boots hitting gravel and dirt, then a truck door closing, and an engine starting. They looked out the window and watched his large black GMC truck disappear down the driveway as if propelled by the cloud of dust following on its heels. As the dust settled, Ennis sagged a bit, worn by the maelstrom, the confrontation, his realizations, and the forced introspection.

Emma touched Ennis' arm. "Sit down, son, you look tired."

Ennis allowed her to lead him to his same chair and sat down, almost played out entirely, the shirts held carefully in his lap.

"I see you found the shirts," Emma said calmly, as she sat down across from him with a sigh, glad to take the weight off her hips, wondering if another great weight would soon be lifted from her.

Ennis looked up, startled.

"Was hoping you would."

Ennis could only stare.

"I've know about them since '63, after Jack came back from herding sheep that summer. He told us about you and finding a best friend where he never expected, and about the sheep, and about Aguirre and his field glasses, and having to leave you behind."

Ennis could only stare. _Field glasses?! What the…? He did see us!_

"One afternoon the week after he got back, I was picking up his dirty clothes in his room, to wash them, and I found the shirts in the closet, and took them, too. Jack came home as I was walking down the stairs, and took those shirts back and told me never to wash them, wasn't necessary, he'd take care of them. Been in his closet ever since. He's been taking care of them ever since."

Ennis could only stare. _He's been takin' care a me, too._

"Figured out a long time ago what those shirts meant. At least to Jack. Figured out a long time ago, too, that you didn't feel the same way. Near broke my heart. And then this week. Don't know what happened between you two, must have been something awful for Jack to act the way he did when he got here. And then to call that Randall fellow."

Ennis could only stare. _Yeah, somethin awful, alright._

"So, what I'm asking you is this. What do those shirts mean to you? You gonna break his heart again? You ran off Randall, what're you gonna do now?"

_What are you waiting for? Do it! Fix it!_

Ennis responded with the quiet certitude of a man who knows, really knows, finally, no going back, no second thoughts, no what-ifs.

"I aim to fix it with Jack. Won't lie to you. I planned on tryin to keep things the way they were, but not now, not any more. Gonna stay here and do what I can to help him lick this place into shape, as long as it takes and then some. If… if he'll have me… if you'll have me."

Emma reached over and pulled one of his hands away from the shirts, out onto the table between them, and held it gently and protectively with both of hers.

"I've waited a long time to hear those words. Thank you, son, thank you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The kitchen door flung open, startling them and revealing an angry Jack Twist.

"Well, if this ain't a pretty picture," he started in sarcastically. "Ennis Del Mar holdin hands with my momma in her own kitchen. Saw your truck out there. Whatcha here for, Ennis? To sweet-talk my momma into forgivin you for shootin down my ideas all these years? For cancelin on August? Then to sweet-talk me, too? Your boss know you're here? Thought you had to work," Jack waved his hands in the air, "couldn't possibly take a chance on losin another job just to meet up with little old me. Hell, good ol' Jack can wait until it's colder than the North Pole in January to meet up with you in some hidden place of your choosin out in the middle of nowhere, after all it's just Jack, your sometime, not-ever-to-be-acknowledged-in-public friend."

Ennis frowned. This was not his Jack, not even the Jack from Sunday.

"You okay?" he asked of Jack.

"Okay? _Okay!_ Yeah, I'm okay, just fine and dandy," Jack snapped. "Now that I've answered your question, how about you answerin mine, huh? Whatcha here for?"

"Need to talk."

"We did all our talkin Sunday at the trailhead." Jack dismissed the thought with a slight wave of his hand.

"Yeah, well, about that…"

"Confused, Ennis? Let me remind you. You told me out of the blue after a whole week together that August was off and we had to wait until after round-up. '_We_' had to wait, as if I had any say in the matter. And then you went off with some lame excuse about needin the job and payin child support, when you and I both know damn well that your child support's over with in September, and then to top it off you shot down _once again_ any thought of my one-time idea of us gettin together full time. Remember that?"

"Yes, but…"

"No buts, Ennis, no more 'buts' or 'what ifs' or 'maybe this' or meetin up twice a year when _you_ want a."

By this time, Emma had quietly left the table, and busied herself with fixing lunch, moving slowly around the other side of the kitchen, hearing everything, saying nothing, hoping to hear the one thing they both needed most to say to each other, wondering when her husband would make his appearance, hoping he would take his time and not interrupt what had to be said, though it was getting close to noon.

Ennis looked at Jack, afraid that even what he was going to say would no longer matter to Jack. Instead of saying what he wanted, he blurted out, "You've changed."

"Yeah, I've changed. Decided to grow up."

"But you're already grown up."

"And now I'm fully grown. Decided to stop dreamin and get on with my life," Jack retorted.

"And your idea about…"

"Us?" Jack shook his head. "I took a good look in the mirror Sunday night, which, by the way, you should too sometime, you know that? Asked myself why I was still waitin around for your sorry ass, when you will never want what I want, and never give me what I need most of all, and I can't live on what you can give. So," Jack shrugged and straightened up a bit, "I got me a new idea, a better idea. Made a phone call to a fella in Texas and started workin on that new idea. Won't ever be the same as with you, but it'll be a whole lot better than what I got now. At least he wants me full time, ain't ashamed of me."

Emma had to speak up. She turned to address Jack. "About that, son."

"What?" Jack turned to his mother, while Ennis stiffened in his chair.

"Your Mr. Malone was here, but..."

"But what? Wait! Was that Randall high-tailin it out a here? Was it?"

"Yes, it was."

"He say anythin, say why he wasn't stayin?"

"Yes, he said to tell you that he had been here but changed his mind about staying, and then left."

"_He_ have anythin to do with it?" Jack gestured towards Ennis, who hadn't said a word or moved a muscle.

"Yes, he did."

"Oh great!" Jack turned back to Ennis, eyes flashing in anger, hands on hips at first, then flailing in the air mostly at Ennis. "What did you go and do, huh? What did you say to him? You ran off my last chance, didn't you, and I bet you knew it. too. You don't want me and now he's gone. Goddammit, Ennis! Say somethin," Jack practically shouted at Ennis.

Ennis winced at the harsh words, but not saying anything. He couldn't get his mouth to form the words he had to say.

"Ennis told him that it was best for him to go, that he wasn't wanted or needed here, that Ennis would be staying on and taking care of you from now on," replied Emma.

Jack's eyes never left Ennis. "That so?" he stated flatly.

"In so many words," said Emma.

"Not you, Momma, _him_, I want a hear it from _him._" Jack turned his full force on Ennis. "What did you do, Ennis? What did you say to Randall? What do you want here? What do you want from me? What am I gonna do? You don't want me, Randall's gone, I just can't stand this any more! I surely do wish I knew how to quit you!" Jack's voice went from anger to sorrow to pain to agony, all in a few seconds time.

Ennis sat up straighter in his chair, revealing the shirts in his lap. Jack paled on seeing them, started to reach out, pulled back, looked from Ennis to the shirts to Ennis.

"Where did you get those? Who…? You went upstairs, you were in my room… you found…"

_Then what are you waiting for? If you really want it, you gotta do something about it! Fix it! Face your worst fear! Stop wishing like a beggar, mount up, grab those reins and ride! Fix it!_

That voice gave him the much needed push. Finally, Ennis found his voice.

"I found us," he gestured slightly with the shirts, "in your room. I thought I knew… no, no, I did know but couldn't… I wouldn't… let myself think on it. Now I can." He looked into the depths of Jack's eyes. "All I ever wanted was you, knew that first year after Brokeback I shouldn't a let you go… always wished we could… you know… your idea… do that… but was too afraid. I have nightmares, always see you lyin in a ditch like Earl if I… if we should…" Ennis heaved a deep sigh. "I had to protect you, protect _us_," he admitted, "and figured pushin you away was the only way. So I did, for all these years. But upstairs in your room I found out different. Found out the only way I could protect you was by holdin onto you, just like you been protectin and holdin onto me with these…"

Ennis loosened his grip on the shirts, enough for Jack to realize that Ennis had switched them, his own now tucked snugly into Ennis'. Jack sucked in his breath, hardly willing to believe what all of this meant, the words, the shirts. He could only stare.

"My turn now, Jack, my turn. I don't want a be a beggar no more, don't want a be alone no more. I want a stop wishin and start ridin, I want a share that better idea you once asked me to share. No more reins on this, no more, not now…" Ennis stood up, still holding the shirts, still looking straight at Jack. "That is, if you still have it and want it… and want me, after all's happened. Your momma says you was always talkin about me comin up with you and building us a place and us lickin this ranch into shape. That offer still hold? I'd like to take you up on it. I mean, if… if it ain't too late... Up to you, but I hope you can see your way to forgivin me and… well…" His voice trailed off, tinged with hope, the pleading quality unmistakable.

Jack could only stare, as his brain worked on overload processing all that had happened in the last few minutes in the drab kitchen of his childhood home, all that had been said, out in the open, in front of his mother, all that was offered to him, no reins, no conditions, no "buts" or "what-ifs" or "maybes" or "just untils".

Emma stood with her back to them, holding her breath, praying silently.

Ennis offered up the shirts, his hands trembling. Jack reached out, his own hand trembling, touched them, looked into Ennis' dark brown troubled eyes, and fell into Ennis, wordless, holding on tight, afraid if he let go Ennis would disappear like all his other dreams and he would be alone again, his grip silently asking whether Ennis really meant all he had said. Ennis held on, too, his arms around Jack, one hand still holding the shirts, his grip silently confirming his promise never to let Jack go again. Ennis felt a wetness on his neck, sure that Jack felt the same on his own.

"That's more than you've said to me in the past 16 years, Cowboy," Jack sniffled into Ennis' neck.

"I'll take that as a yes, Bud," Ennis whispered back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Boots stomping on the back porch broke their reverie. The kitchen door flung open, revealing an upset older man, hat in one hand, wiping the sweat from his forehead with an old blue bandana in the other. Startled, Ennis tried to pull away from Jack, but Jack held on tight and would not let him budge.

"What the hell's going on here? All these comins and goins! Who's old Chevy truck is that parked in the way next to yours? And who sped off in that fancy rig? Could a hit someone! And who're you? You that fella from Texas? Don't look nothing like any foreman I ever met. And why're you holding that dirty shirt? Been here five minutes and already you expect Jack's momma to do your laundry? And do you two have to hug like that in front of me? Christalmighty!" He slumped down with a grunt into a chair next to the kitchen table, throwing his hat down onto the table as he did. "I'm too old for this damn crap."

He looked up at the two men standing in front of him, still holding onto each other. "Well?" he demanded, shaking his bandana at them.

Reluctantly they broke apart but remained connected by one arm around each other. Ennis held onto the shirts with his left hand, but kept his right arm around Jack, and looked downward at his boots. Jack wiped his face with the cuff of his shirt, and stood a little straighter, taking strength from the nearness of Ennis.

"Dad, this here's Ennis Del Mar, come up to stay and help us lick this place back into shape, like I been tellin you. Ennis, this here's is my dad, John Twist."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Ennis disentangled himself and held out his right hand.

John studied it, the shirts in the other hand, and Ennis himself, before grasping the outstretched hand with his own, without leaving his seat at the table. "So you're the famous Ennis Del Mar." The sarcasm dripped from every word.

Ennis flushed a bit more, but gave better than he got from John, not backing down one bit. "Yep."

John grunted and released the hand. Ennis moved his right arm back around Jack, still holding the shirts protectively with his left hand.

"You look like you know your way around a ranch."

"Been doin it all my life, full time since I was fifteen."

"Huh. You aimin to stay, or just visitin like Jack here? Comes and goes, never stays long enough to matter."

Before Jack could cut in with his protest, Ennis replied evenly. "To stay, long as Jack wants me to. If I wear out my welcome, I'll move on."

Jack spoke up. "We're both stayin, and if Ennis goes, I go too, package deal, ain't that right, Cowboy?"

"Yep," affirmed Ennis.

"Place is gonna be overrun. I tell you…"

John drummed his fingers on the tabletop, wordlessly, contemplating this unexpected turn of events, especially considering the phone call on Monday, then stopped suddenly.

"So what took you so damn long?" he demanded of Ennis.

"Huh?"

"I said, what took you so damn long? Jack's been talkin about you non-stop since that sheepherdin job back in the Summer of '63. Every time he deigns to come up here to play at bein a ranchhand, it's 'Ennis Del Mar this', and 'Ennis Del Mar that', and 'Ennis Del Mar's gonna come up and the two of us are gonna build a us cabin and lick this place into shape like it was years ago.' Humpf. Another fool idea in a long string of fool ideas he's had, if you ask me. Didn't believe a word of it. Just a few days ago he called some other fella, someone down in Texas or some such place. But, now here you are, sayin you're stayin, bold as brass. So, what took you so damn long?"

"Um, things."

"What things?"

"Dad? Leave him alone, he's here and…"

"John, be polite to our guest," chastised Emma quietly as she placed a tall glass of ice water in front of John, hoping to end the inquisition.

"Guest? He's no guest, not if he's plannin on comin to live here. He's gonna be part a our lives, workin this ranch, my granddaddy's ranch, your great-granddaddy's ranch. Got a right to know about him." He took a long drink of water nearly draining the glass, and looked hard at Ennis. "What took you so long to say yes to my boy's idea? And why are you suddenly up here now sayin yes? And what makes me think you'll stick to it? Huh? Jack here never did, so why should you?"

The wording of that statement and questions took both Ennis and Jack by surprise. _Part of our lives. My boy's idea. Stick to it._ Seemed like John was more interested in Ennis' character than the fact that Ennis slept with his son. _Sonofabitch,_ thought Ennis, _meaner than hell to his son, even now, and me, for that matter, but actin all protective like? More interested in us helpin him? In my character? _

"So?"

Ennis decided that, since he was 'gonna be a part of their lives', he had better start off with the truth. So he stammered out, "Scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"What would happen if we did… get together… what people would do… you know…"

"No, I don't know. What? Well? Cat got your tongue?"

_What are you waiting for? Do it! Face your worst fear!_ The voice again gave him strength.

Ennis held the blood-stained shirts tight, and spoke quietly, painfully, "That someone would come after Jack and hurt him on account a me, on account a us bein together."

Jack jumped in. "When he was a kid… 8, 9 years old… some guys jumped a neighbor one afternoon when his… his partner was gone, beat him, dragged him behind a pickup truck by his … until it… it… they left him in a ditch to die… all bloody down…." He gulped before continuing, shaken himself by the imagined thoughts of that scene. "Next mornin his daddy took him and his brother to see…"

Ennis broke his connection with Jack and collapsed back into his chair, pale, sweating, trembling, overcome and terrified by the scene that began circling about him. He put his elbows on the table, and covered his eyes with the shirts.

Emma gasped, came quickly over to Ennis, sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around him. Even John gave a look of disbelief.

"Where this happen?"

"Outside a Sage," whispered Jack, while rubbing Ennis' back.

"Hmm." John was silent, thinking, then spoke slowly while dredging up long-forgotten memories. "Seem to remember somethin about that, early Fifties it was, made all the newspapers. Couple of tough older guys, right? Quiet types, good people, been there for decades? Folks here talked about it, some of the church-goin crowd sniffed and said it was God's punishment for them being that way. As if they would know anythin about God's doins."

"Now John, you shouldn't…"

"Well it's true, standin there all holier-than-thou, spoutin all kinds of Bible passages, forgettin their own failins. Some of us told em that it weren't up to us to judge or punish them two guys for their ways of livin, God would decide the punishin when they met Him up there, not us down here before then." John paused and looked over at Ennis.

"Sheriff caught the fellas that did it."

Ennis' head shot up, and he asked, "What? Who? How you know that?"

John shrugged. "Was in the newspapers a couple a weeks later. Three guys, seasonal types, drifters, out of work, drunk, stealin stuff to sell, figured no one would care about em stealin from two queers, thought they both were gone anyways and the three of em would be long gone before the stuff was missed. Then that one fella walked in on em, recognized one of em, so they… did what they did. Got caught a week later tryin to sell some a the stolen stuff to a rancher next county over, he called the sheriff. One got away, never found him, the other two admitted what they done, got hung for it." John spat into his empty glass. "Like they should have, bastards. Murder's still murder, any way you looked at it, Fifth Commandment."

"Then it wasn't…" Ennis breathed, the relief in his voice evident to all of them.

"Wasn't who?"

"My daddy."

"What made you think it was him?"

"What he said when he showed us… laughed at him and said that's what happens to queers."

"Humpf. Maybe back then down in Sage, but not around here it don't," John stated with finality. "Don't have to do business with em, or be social and all that. Geez, and now you're gonna… oh good Lord have mercy. But, like I said, no call to do stuff like that to… to… you know. Like I said, it's God's business." He looked straight at the both of them, letting the words sink in.

That thought hung in the air, the silence broken by the pendulum of the wall clock ticking down the remaining time, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour, then suddenly announcing that it was 12:00, time for lunch. Emma got up, patted Ennis on the shoulder, then John on the shoulder, and moved across the kitchen to finish her preparations for lunch. John again spoke up, not letting go of the situation until it suited him, even facing the prospect of eating late.

"So, what about that Randall fella? Thought he was gonna come up here instead."

Jack's eyes got big, and Ennis stiffened in his chair, at the given name of Mr. Somebody New.

"He did, dear," interjected Emma, as she placed the plates and utensils on the table. "That was him leaving just before you and Jack got back in."

"You talk to him?"

"Yes." She brought over a platter of sandwiches and set them in the middle of the table.

"Well, why'd he take off?"

"Ennis convinced him it would be best if he didn't stay," she remarked simply, before walking over to the refrigerator and opening it. She pulled out a bowl of fruit and brought it to the table.

Jack shook his head ruefully. "Big mistake on my part, I shouldn't a made that call, knew it as soon as I hung up the phone."

Ennis squeezed Jack's hand. "It's okay, my fault really. If I'd a done what I should have years ago…"

"No, don't say that, it's not your fault. I pushed you too hard Sunday, let my frustrations get the best of me."

"Jack, listen…"

"Geez, you two, let it go." John banged his hand on the table for attention, causing his now-empty glass of water to wobble precariously, but grabbing it before it fell and setting it upright.

"You," John growled and wagged his forefinger at Ennis, "you hurt my son over and over for twenty years, but that's done with, and you're movin in, right?"

Ennis nodded.

"And you," John pointed at Jack, not giving and inch, "you've been cryin in your whiskey over him for twenty years, but now you got what you've been wantin, right?"

Jack nodded.

"So quit your damn bitchin at each other and get on with it," John snapped at them. "You wanta hash it out between you, do it on your own time and out a my sight. I got a ranch to run, and you two are supposed to be helpin me. Can't be refereein no more queer lovers' quarrels, don't have the time or the taste for it. Besides, it's lunchtime and I'm hungry. And it ain't polite to let your momma's good cookin get ignored. Go wash up." He dismissed them with a shake of his head and wave of his hand, then reached for a sandwich. Before he could, Emma tapped it and quietly reminded him to wash up himself first.

Feeling like two ten-year-olds caught with their hands in the cookie jar, Jack and Ennis mumbled their apologies to Emma and stumbled up the stairs. Jack splashed water on his face and washed his hands while Ennis hung the shirts on a hanger on a nail on the wall of Jack's room, for all to see. No more hiding away in this house, regardless. They stole a kiss and made promises to keep, before walking downstairs to start the rest of their lives.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Damn! Who'da thought? Ennis Del Mar here, on this ranch, workin with me, well, not exactly with me, bein all the way over there where I can hardly see him but once in a while, but here, here! And he says he loves me and he ain't goin nowhere… twenty years I've been hopin and dreamin and prayin for this day… and now he's here! _

_Damn. Shit. Fucking old fencepost, must be one a the ones my great-granddad put in here a hundred years ago… need to replace all a these with real posts, pressurized ones like they have in Texas now…_

_Texas! Lureen! Jeez, I gotta call her tonight, find out what's goin on with the divorce… need to get those papers and sign 'em… she'll need an address… ain't gonna have her send em to the house… no way… have to go into town tomorrow early and get a box at the post office so she can send up the papers without the old bastard seein em and snoopin… put Ennis' name on it too… we'll go in together, get some time alone in the truck… show him the town, what little there is of it, five buildings at a cross roads and one of them half-empty…get something to eat at Madge's… introduce my best friend who's come to live with me… no, goin into partnership with me, runnin the ranch… known him for twenty years now…_

_Twenty years… lotta goddamn water over the bridge, or under the dam, or whatever it is… yeah, water, water everywhere… tears, too many of em, seems like every time he drove away… wonder if he did too… didn't drive away from him, he drove away from me… drove me away, fuck, drove me crazy…still does… _

_But I don't care… no way Jose… he's here know, that's all that matters… he's here and he said he loves me and he's gonna stay and there ain't nothing or no one gonna come between us…not even… _

_Shit! Randy… gotta do somethin about that… gotta call him… wonder where he's headed… big mistake callin him, never figured he'd red-line it up here right away… but he did… he's got some powerful feelins for me, feel bad about leadin him on… no, we both knew, he knew about Ennis and knew he wasn't number one… and neither was I for that matter… wonder if he's gonna try to find Mark after all these years… I would if I was him… but I ain't him and he ain't Ennis… gotta find him… end it properly… tell him myself… hmmm… maybe Lureen'll have his number… _

_Dammit! Christ almighty that hurts. Stupid hammer! I gotta get a big stapler or something, this pounding brads into fenceposts is for the birds… _

_Wonder what Ennis is doin way over there… probably what I'm doin, wrecking my hands tryin to salvage the unsalvageable… hmmm… unsalvageable… thought that's what happened to him and me, over, gone, busted into pieces and lyin on the ground up at the trailhead… and then run over by his truck pullin out as fast as he could like always… course he did break a bit, fell down to the ground… but just like old Ennis pulled himself up before I could get out a my truck and moved on like nothing happened … or ever would… just the same old shit year after fuckin year… seein him for a week whenever Pope Ennis would find the time to grant me an audience… never mind what I was goin through, never mind what I needed… no-o-o… reins… yeah Mr. "no reins on this"… bullshit to that, him holding the reins, yankin em back every single time I tried to push on… change things for the better… pulling the strings, makin me dance to his tune… and now here he is, claimin to be a changed man, runnin Randall off, sayin he loves me and ain't never gonna let me go… how long is that gonna last… til the old bastard shows his true colors and starts callin him "queer" and "unnatural"… know he said that judgment is in the hereafter… but he still judges in the here and now… why'd he come now… thought he'd never se me again… not after what I said to him…why now… what made him change in a week…_

_But he's here and he didn't drive off when Randy showed up and when my mean-mouthed daddy showed up and he's over there… hey wavin his hat at me… Yeah, right back atcha lover boy… oh god I can't go and call him that, he'll have a cow… _

_He says he loves me and he's gonna stay…_

_I sure hope so… don't know what I'd do if he left me after this… probably get drunk and stick my ass out for the first cowpoke that pokes… just like Mexico after he shoved me away after his divorce… and where'd that get me… beat up just like in Mexico… maybe lyin in a ditch like old Earl… _

_Nope… Ennis better mean what he says…_

_Ow! Goddammit! That hurts! Shit! Man… who put that hole there… damn rat… ankle's gonna be swollen… walk it off Twist… no limpin in front a your daddy… done worse ridin bulls… and more than bulls… ain't ever gonna say a word about that either… the past better stay in the past…that really would put him over the edge… week ago he threatened to kill me if he found out… but he did find out… he talked to Randall and ran him off and didn't kill me and hugged me and told me he was here to stay and said it to momma and that crap father of mine… _

_Crap father… never could do anything right… pissin on me… tellin me I was no good never amount to much… could hardly wait to get away… but here I am right back here… why's he hatin me so much… what'd I ever do to him 'cept be born… maybe that's it, bein born… and not havin any brother or sister… just me… wonder if he'll ever tell me… huh… ain't holdin my breath until that happens… maybe momma will… don't see me askin her that question… just have to accept it… my daddy hates me, always has and always will… crap father…_

_And he goes and seems all sympathetic like to Ennis… where'd that come from… never showed no sympathy for me… he did clear up things with Ennis' dad… did something nice for a change… hope that closes the door on that part a his life… nah he'll never forget it… always be there, pushed down further, but always there… wonder how many pairs of kid gloves I'll wear out in the next 20 years… crap father…_

_Crap fathers… me and Lureen sure did have that in common… leastways where it came to me… she could do no wrong 'cept marryin me… busted up bullrider… "Rodeo"… hope Ennis never calls me that again… fat bastard, rollin in dough, never spreadin it around… yeah well ya can't take it with you and he's gone and Lureen her momma have it… and my son is gonna get it someday… so there ya fat bastard… where'd it get ya, huh… still fell down like ya ran into the side of a building when ya had that stroke, still six feet under like everyone else that's dead… wonder what he'd say if he knew what's goin on… me and Ennis and what I got… bet he'd roll over in his grave… nah he's too fat for that… just flop around… bastard… makin me sign that paper when me and Lureen got married… but I got the last laugh…14 years of puttin up with him, learned a lot about makin money and keepin it… _

_Hope Ennis doesn't run off when I tell him…but he says he loves me and he's never gonna let me out a his sight again… _

_Sure hope he means it… sure hope so… _

_Sun's getting kinda low… best be packin it in… don't want a be late for dinner and have the old man crabbin about his supper getting cold waitin on his good for nothing son and his queer boyfriend… _

_Sure hope Ennis means it… sure hope so… _

_I sure hope Jack never asks me… how can I tell him the truth… it'd kill him… bad enough as it is between the two of em, don't need that too… know he'll never say a word… too proud and too… too… stubborn…afraid… tired… don't want to lose what I've got, we've got, in this house now… isn't the life either of us expected, but it's what we got, can't fix it now … gotta stand it for Jack and Ennis… _

_Ennis Del Mar… here… in this house… with my Jack…answer to my prayers… haven't seem him so happy in I don't know how long…only thing that'd be better is havin Bobby come up too, meet me and his grandpa… hug him and spoil him… wonder if he'd like cherry cake as much as his daddy… meet Ennis too… hope he likes Ennis and doesn't turn his back on his daddy and Ennis… icing on the cake if he doesn't… then I'd have all the men in my life at my table… don't want to take a chance on losin that either…_

_Sure hope Ennis means what he says… it'd kill Jack if he got spooked and ran off…_

_No… I'll never tell him… it's gonna stay buried in the past… along with him… where it belongs… just stand up tall on the Pentecost and accept the judgment of the Good Lord himself… _

_Getting late… best be getting supper ready… got three hungry men to feed now… another prayer I'm glad the Lord answered. _

_Sure hope Ennis means it…_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The banjo clock announced 7:00 pm, as John pushed his empty dinner plate away from him and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"So," John began, dropping his napkin on the table, "where you two aimin on puttin up this cabin he's been talkin about for years? Gotta know what land you're aimin to take out a production, and best not have your eye on that bottom land on the West side, need all of that for hay. And it better be far enough away so I don't have to hear or see anything what you two… do… you know, none of that… stuff."

"About that," Jack started, "I got a different plan in mind."

"What? Not the two of you sleeping upstairs, no way. This is my house and I won't have none a that goin on under my roof. Bad enough as it is."

"Our roof," Emma reminded him quietly, as she rose to clear the dishes. Jack rolled his eyes. Ennis frowned.

"Leave that, Momma, Ennis and me'll take care of the dishes. You sit down and finish your coffee."

She smiled, and complied gratefully.

"Humpf," granted John. "Well… okay… for tonight. But you gotta sleep in different rooms, and after tonight, you gotta figure out somethin else. And you still haven't answered my question. What this new plan a yours?"

"The homestead."

"The homestead?!" John frowned. Emma smiled.

"What's the homestead?" asked Ennis, looking at all of them.

"My great-grandparents' house, next place couple a miles on up the road," explained Jack. "Great-grandma Emma came West from Boston in the 1880's, by herself, looking for her fiancé who'd come West the year before promisin to send for her. He wrote twice, from Cheyenne, second time sayin he'd found a place and was goin to stake claim to it and would send her money and directions soon, but he never wrote again. She didn't find him, found my great-grandpa instead, Ezra Anderson. They settled these two sections of land, built the homestead and raised two kids."

"Three," reminded Emma. "One died when he was only four. She kept his picture on the mantle the rest of her life there."

"I got it up in my room, maybe you saw it?"

Ennis shook his head, no.

"Well, anyway, after Ezra died, she stayed on with my Grandma Megan and her husband, George Yost, my grandpa, and sold this piece to my Granddad Twist. Grandpa George did well, got elected to the State Legislature, raised Momma and her brothers over there. Granddad Twist built this house, raised my daddy and Uncle Harold, his brother, here."

"The one that was sick," commented Ennis.

"You remember that," stated John.

"Remember a lot about that summer. He got sick, then got better."

"Then got himself killed in a car wreck a year later," stated John. "Damn fool was driving tired, been on the road seven, eight hours heading home, ran off the road and hit a tree. Only curve in five miles, and the only stand of trees in ten, but he found 'em both. Happened outside of Bozeman"

Ennis shuddered involuntarily. _Just like my folks. Could a happened to Jack! Why did I wait so long?_

"Yeah, I miss him," added Jack, "he was always nice." All were silent for a moment, contemplating how life could end so suddenly and unexpectedly. John let the 'nice' comment go by without responding.

"Anyway, Momma married Dad in '38, moved into this place. Granddad had a heart attack and died in '40, and Gramma Mary died about a year later. And then the War came. Grandpa George and Grandma Megan died during the War in late 1943, U-Boat sunk the ship they were on headin to England as part of the war effort. At 81 Great-grandma couldn't handle the place by herself, and my uncles weren't interested in ranchin anymore, went off in the Army or some such durin the war, never did come back except to visit. So they sold the place, split the money, and she moved in here. She had my room before I did, and died in her sleep up there when I was almost two years old."

"Got a picture of her holdin little Jack right after he was born. She surely did love you, son, said you looked a lot like her brother," Emma said with a smile.

"Yeah, remember you tellin me that. And I thought," Jack turned to face Ennis, "we'd take over the place. It's been empty for over twenty years now, folks that bought it gave up and moved away, but it's got good bones. Wanta see it?"

Before Ennis could answer, John took over the conversation once again.

"What for? Just a waste of time." He almost seemed to gloat at the pending misfortune of his son.

"How so?" asked Jack.

"Guess you ain't traveled that far up the road in the past few days. Some rich lawyer from Laramie beat you to it, bought the place last Fall, after the last time you were here. Musta spent a fortune fixin it up. Talk a the area. Hired Charlie McGowan to do it, remember him?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Been over there half a dozen times or more this past Winter, eyeballin the work. Don't know what that Laramie feller is thinkin about, putting so much money into the place out here in the middle a nowhere, must have money to burn. Wonder what he knows that we don't. Hmmm… Anyways, like I was sayin, he had Charlie redo all the wirin and plumbin, put on a new roof, and screened in most of the porch. Changed one of the bedrooms upstairs into a bathroom, but you can't get into it except going through the two bedrooms left up there. Then he added on two other bedrooms and another bathroom downstairs. Where's the logic in all that? Must have some kinda big family."

Ennis suddenly had an inkling about the logic, and he shivered inside at the thought. He fixed his eyes on his empty coffeecup held firmly in his right hand, and started smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in the tablecloth with his other hand, waiting for both boots to drop while John continued on with his litany of restoration and remodeling horrors.

"And the guy also redid the kitchen and added what he called a 'family room' right onto it, and painted the place inside and out, the whole works …even put a new furnace and air conditionin! Now for God's sakes, who needs goddamn air conditionin with all the wind we got up here?"

"You been over there?" asked Jack of his mother.

"Yes. Charlie was kind enough to give me a tour last Thursday before he gave the keys to the new owner."

"Just finished up last week," inserted John. "Charlie said the new owner wanted it finished by the start a August, but he had good luck with the weather, and times being what they are found plenty a good workers, so he finished early."

"And you like it?" Jack again addressed his mother.

"Very much so," responded Emma with a smile. "The place looks lovely. The new owner kept a lot of the downstairs like it was when my Gramma Emma and my parents and me lived there. I think she would approve of all the changes, especially the kitchen and the bathrooms, I know I do."

"Glad you do," Jack paused and put his hand on Ennis' trembling thigh under the table. _Steady!_

That was enough for Ennis. He knew for sure. Ennis moved his left hand down, and gripped Jack's, hard, for balance. _Here it comes! _he thought. _What the hell have you done now, Twist?! I don't have that kind a money. What will folks think?_

"'Cause you're lookin at the new owners," Jack said more calmly than he felt inside. They held on tight to each other.

"What? You! Land's sakes." Emma and John spoke together. Ennis remained silent, still looking down his right hand now continually smoothing out a second nonexistent wrinkle in the tablecloth. 

"Yeah, us. Had my eye on that place for a while now. So I contacted a friend, who had a friend, who knew this attorney in Laramie. Called him last Fall, when I was up here, went by and met him on my way back to Childress, and had him handle the deal. Wanted it to be a surprise. Asked him to be sure to have it finished by August." He looked at Ennis. "One of the reasons I was so mad on Sunday, planned on somehow gettin you to come here before our trip in August and show you the place."

"Oh, Jack…"

"Yeah, well… you didn't know… but now you do. Had it put in his name, so's not to have anyone find out. He already signed the deed to the both of us, just waitin for my call to record it."

"But..."

"But what?"

Ennis looked directly at Jack, and all forms of protest died an instant death, shriveled up and blew away like autumn leaves in the Wyoming wind. It's what they both wanted, and being on their own place way out in the middle of almost nowhere up in the far reaches of Wyoming was as good a place as any. And, he sure did like Jack's mom; though his dad was something else. What was it he promised himself and Jack just a few hours ago? _Never goin to let him out a my sight, and gonna protect him and make him happy the rest of our lives._

So, he smiled and said, "No buts, just wonderin when we were gonna get inside to see it."

"You want to see it now?"

"Now? Tonight?"

"Sure. Electricity's on, it's got water, heat, no furniture, but you'll get the idea."

"You bet. I'd like that."

"Great! I'll get my jacket, be right back." Jack bounded out of the room, and Ennis could hear his boots as he took the stairs two at a time in his haste.

"I'll get you a thermos of coffee to take with you," offered Emma, as she rose from her chair. "And don't worry about the dishes, you can do them next time."

"Thank you, ma'am, that'd be real nice."

John looked at him, with some curiosity, but mostly disgust. "You really gonna do this? Shack up together right next door to us?"

"Yep, we really are," replied Ennis, more calmly than he felt. "Takin a chance on a better idea."

"Here you go, added cream, just like you both like it."

"Thanks much."

"Ready?" Jack re-entered the room, jacket on, holding a full paper bag turned down at the top.

"Yep, my jacket's in my truck. What do you have there?" Ennis pointed to the bag.

"Oh, just a couple a things for the house. Let's go. And I need you to help me get something from the basement on our way out."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Penny for your thoughts." He inhaled and passed it on.

His partner gave it a long look, looked over at the shirts hanging on a nail across the room, and then threw it over his shoulder into the flickering fire, which flared briefly as it consumed the object, sending shadows dancing across the room.

"Hey, what'd you do that for? That was good stuff!"

"Thought we'd quit."

"Why now? And why we?"

"Because I want to remember this, and want this," he gestured between them with his free hand, "to last as long as possible."

"You do, huh?"

"Yes, I do. Don't want a lose any time 'cause of that cancer or some other thing you get from smokin."

"Ennis Del Mar, you really know how to say a lot when you say a little." Jack shifted sideways and eased back even further into Ennis' shoulder, then extended his left arm across Ennis' waist. With a contented sigh, he continued, "So do I, want all the time we got, never enough as it is."

Ennis held Jack tighter. After a few minutes, he asked, "Penny for your thoughts."

"Sure glad the fireplace works."

"Me too. Woulda been somethin buildin a fire on this nice wooden floor."

"What I meant _w-a-a-s-s, _ I'm sure glad the fireplace works, so we didn't have to build one outside and advertise we were – as my Daddy put it more than once – having 'unnatural sex' under the stars."

"Don't think the stars really care, and don't care what your Daddy thinks. He's wrong, anyway."

"Think the same, and told him so more'n once."

"Don't know what to make of him, other than bein mean. He always like that?"

A sigh. "Yeah, like that and worse. Never could do right by him, always put me down, always findin fault. Told ya what he did to me when I was a kid, didn't I? Pissin on me and all?"

"Yeah, even my dad, mean as he was, never did anythin like that to me. Now that I've met him, I gotta wonder why you still keep comin back, and why you did all this here." Ennis gestured around him.

Jack answered in one word. "Momma."

Ennis understood, but still had misgivings.

"He gonna keep his mouth shut about us? I don't want a have to leave here, 'specially on account of him, but if we do, we do."

"Don't think he'll say anythin to anybody. He knows he needs us, place been goin downhill so long, can't stop the slide alone. Besides, we can handle whatever anyone throws at us."

"Earl couldn't," Ennis murmured, still painfully afraid of what could happen to Jack.

"One thing Daddy did get right for sure, this place is nothin like Sage, and that was thirty years ago and more. I'm not saying it could never happen, but folks is tight around here and mostly keep their nose outta other's business."

"Couldn't bear it if I lost you."

"Me neither, and you aren't, you're gonna have to put up with me for a long time to come."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Jack planted a kiss on Ennis' bare chest, and continued to hold on to his new-found contentment. After a few minutes, he asked, "Penny for your thoughts."

"Hope you don't run outta pennies."

"Not to worry, got lots up in my old bedroom in an old Farmer Brothers coffeecan. So?"

"Glad you still had all this gear in the back of your truck, especially the air mattress."

"Me too. Much easier on the back. But we can't sleep on it forever. We'll have to go into Gillette and find some furniture, and I need to go into town and set us up a box at the Post Office. How about we do both tomorrow?" He felt Ennis tense up and heard his heartbeat speed up. But, after a very short time, Ennis eased, and surprised Jack when he said, evenly, "Guess we should, only…"

"Only what?"

"Only we get stuff for both bedrooms."

"Stuff?"

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

"Yep."

Ennis sighed. "We get two beds and all, so each of us has a bedroom."

"For show, but not for real."

"For when others come in and look around, or the kids are here. Ain't their business, but don't want a… you know."

"Yes, I know." _This will take a lifetime_, _but that's what I wanted and what I got, more'n enough time now._ He pulled his arm in, and shifted so he was lying more on his back again, still within the circle of Ennis' arm.

After a few minutes, Ennis asked, "Whose chair is that we brought over?"

"The high-back chair?"

"Only stick of furniture in the room, so yeah, that one."

Jack pinched Ennis, "Dumbass."

Ennis flicked one of Jack's nipples, "Dumbass yourself."

They kissed, Jack's hand slowly withdrawing across Ennis' check afterwards.

"My Great-grandma Emma's. The only piece of furniture we have of hers. Thought it belonged over here."

Ennis nodded in agreement. Then asked, "What else's in the paper bag?"

"Couple of things." Jack tried to act nonchalant about it.

"Such as?"

With a smile, Jack untangled himself and crawled on all fours towards the front door to retrieve the bag from its resting place on the floor at the beginning of the trail of hurriedly-cast-off clothing.

"Like the view," Ennis commented.

Jack looked around and wiggled his ass, before heading back. He lay on top of Ennis, kissing him soundly before rolling off. Picking up the bag, he started pulling out its contents: the horse Ennis had carved for him during that summer, a scarf Ennis recognized as one he thought he'd lost a few years back [_could a used that last November]_, the picture of Jack and his parents on his first day of school [_already smilin at the world_], a bundle of postcards held together with twine which Ennis immediately recognized as the ones he had mailed to Jack [_wait'll he sees mine!]_, two trophy belt buckles [_ain't seen these before_], some yellowed newspaper clipping about Jack in his rodeo days [_damn, wish I'd a seen him ride_], an old cracked picture of a serious little boy in short pants standing on the porch of this house [_must be that little boy that died]_, a picture of Ennis up in the mountains from one of their trips [_how'd he get that?_], and… the last item made Ennis give a slight gasp.

A picture of a woman in a frame, a wisp of a woman, dressed in a dark long-sleeved dress that went down to the floor and up to her neck, gray hair pulled back into bun, a silver locket in the shape of a heart hanging from a silver chain around her neck, lips pressed together, stern, but yet a hint of a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes, sitting straight up in that same ornate high-backed chair that stood across this very room, holding a baby wearing a long white gown.

"Who's this?" Ennis touched the picture, gently, almost reverently.

"That's my Great-grandma Emma holdin me on my christenin day. Gramma and Momma sure did have a lot of stories about her. They kept tellin me things she'd told them, like 'If wishes were horses…"

"…even beggars would ride," Ennis finished.

"Yeah. And, 'If you really want somethin…"

"…you gotta do somethin about it," Ennis finished again.

"Right again. Say, you been talkin to Momma?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Thought so."

They both looked at the picture. Jack's words held a wistful tone as he said her name. "Emma McFearson Anderson. 'Course Emma wasn't her full name, it was short for…"

"Emmaline," Ennis said. "Dear Emmaline," he murmured.

"Huh? How'd you know that?"

"It's nothin… just a lucky guess. Tell you a story some day."

"No way, huh-uh, tell me now, no more secrets, no more lies, we gotta talk about things, everythin, and this is as good a place and time as any to get started."

So Ennis did, leaving out nothing, nothing at all, holding onto the picture the whole time. When he was finished, Jack turned to him revealing the tracks of tears down his cheeks. Ennis put the picture on the floor next to him, gently took Jack's face into both of his work-toughened hands and with his thumbs erased all evidence of those tears.

"No more a these, Bud," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Cowboy."

Ennis got up and placed the picture on the mantel, then returned to Jack's arms. As the fire continued to burn low, they created more shadows dancing on the wall across the room.

Later on, in the dark, Ennis asked, "Who was her fiancé?"

"Patrick McGinty. Why?"

"Patrick Kiernan McGinty," Ennis stated

"Yeah, but how…"

"Her fiancé did write again and sent money for her trip, but the letter came back undelivered and marked 'Deceased.' He wrote again, but that second letter came back marked 'Deceased", too. He mourned, started drinkin, and almost lost the place he had. But after a year or so a family moved onto the next place and started ranchin. They got to know each other, helped each other out, went to church together, and soon he and the older daughter got married and raised a family. But he never forgot Emmaline."

"How do you know all that?"

"Patrick Kiernan McGinty is my great-grandpa, my Momma's grandfather. My Momma heard the story growin up, and told it to me one day. She named my brother after two of our great-grandfathers, Kiernan and Eugene, K.E."

Jack remained silent, stunned. "Well I'll be. Fate?"

"Maybe," Ennis conceded. "She did lay into me upstairs, made me face up to things. Guess she didn't want me to lose what we have like she and Patrick did." He turned to Jack. "This here's forever, you know that, don't you? Just us, no one else, better or worse, sickness and health, and anythin else that comes along." He looked steadily into Jack's eyes waiting for his answer. It hardly took a second.

"Yeah, I know. It's a one-time thing, you and me, one time forever. Just us, no one else, better or worse, sickness and health, and anythin else that comes along."

"Jack, I swear…"

Somewhere after midnight and before dawn lies the darkest of the night. Pitch black. Can't see a thing except dim outlines of what may be there. Disoriented, the mind forgets that darkness is only the absence of light, and conjures up all sorts of images of what may be and what could be, fueling fears… but still manages somehow down deep to hold fast to what really is and will be when dawn arrives.

In the midst of the darkness that night, while spooned up behind Jack, one arm around him protectively, Ennis roused from his sleep thinking he heard a noise coming from across the room. Looking over, he saw the outline of the chair near the front windows in the dim light of the last sliver of the waning moon beaming through the windows. As he watched, wisps of smoke from the still smoldering fire drifted across the darkened room towards the chair. They gathered and swirled, until gradually a form appeared, Emmaline, from the picture, sitting in her chair, smiling a tight smile at him.

As he looked at her, a few wisps of smoke broke away from her, mingled with more from the fire, gathered, swirled, and took another shape, the figure of an elderly man standing next to her in the moonlight. Ennis recognized him from faded pictures in an old family album, long ago lost, his great-grandfather Patrick. Patrick took Emmaline's hand into his, and they looked at each other and smiled. As they did the years seemed to drop away, until they appeared as a young couple in their mid twenties, eagerly looking forward to a life together. Ennis smiled and nodded at them. Still holding hands, they nodded back, then gradually dissolved into tendrils of smoke which dissipated and disappeared like smoke from a dying fire rising through the pines high up in the mountains. If they ever were there in the first place.

Ennis lapsed back into sleep. They would always be safe in this house.

The End… and The Beginning


	11. Chapter 11

-Epilogue 1-

February 14, 1985

Dear Miss Emmaline.

Last year in May your column had a letter from a woman signed 'Confused in Casper'. She had a good lady friend who wanted to be more than just friends, and she wanted it too, but was afraid of what people would think and what could happen to her friend. You told her the real problem was her fear of disapproval and embarrassment, and she had to make a choice and either way she would pay a price, but she should be true to herself.

That hit home to me. I was in the same place, had lots of fears about what could happen, and had to make a decision between doing nothing and losing my friend. I thought hard about it and about what you said, and made the choice to be with my friend. It ain't been easy all the time this past year, but I don't regret it a single minute, best thing I ever did. If you really want something, you gotta do something about it. So I did. I hope 'Confused in Casper' took the chance, too.

Please sign me "True To Myself".

Sincerely,

Ennis Del Mar

February 20, 1985

Dear Mr. Del Mar.

I appreciate your writing about how Confused's letter and the advice given in response helped you make your decision. This kind of letter from a reader always cheers me up.

However, I can't find that particular letter and response in any of my columns from last May or the year before that. Perhaps it appeared in a different advice column, and you have confused the two columns. In any event, I hope you and your friend have many happy years together.

Sincerely,

"Emmaline"

Margaret Anderson


	12. Chapter 12

-Epilogue 2—

The little things caused the most problems.

I mean, hell, movin in together was a big deal, for me at least. Thought everybody and his brother's uncle looked at us kinda funny-like, and way too much whispering went on at the feedstore if you ask me. Had to put one guy on the ground early on. Funny thing, we got to be friends after that, sticks up for us ever since. Even helps out during round-up each year.

Things settled down a bit after that. Still took six months before I slept all the way through, woke up with every little noise. Finally decided we were safe enough and settled in, 'specially with Miss Emmaline and Great-grandpa Patrick watchin over us. Jack slept through it all. At least when he wasn't waking me up to… well, you know…

Tellin the kids was a big deal, too. We both sweated bullets over that. Told Lureen sittin next to each other across from her on one of the couches in her fancy livin room. Part of me was glad to be there for Jack, the rest of me wished I had stayed in Wyoming. But I never considered lettin him go alone, not after seein that broken face a his on those swirlin postcards back in his room that day. No way. Knew what I had to do and did it. Lureen wasn't all that surprised, but did use it to get a better deal out a Jack in their divorce. Bobby wasn't surprised neither, but wouldn't look me in the eye and stayed away 'til the next summer. Comes up twice a year now, sometimes more. Brought his wife and their baby last time. I allowed as how that baby boy don't look a bit like his grandfather, which was a good thing. Had to sleep alone in 'my' room half the night after saying that. Now the other half… hmmm.

Junior and Francie were different stories. Francie won't speak to me. Guess I let her spend too much time alone with Alma when she was little, thinkin she and her sister both would come around on their own if I just gave them enough time. Junior on the other hand hugged me, and said I would always be her Daddy, and hugged Jack and asked if she could call him Uncle Jack. Don't think I ever saw Jack speechless until then. She invited both of us to her weddin. Alma just about had a cow, but we both went. Jack knew how to handle it, always does. Sat with his mom in the last pew on the back of the church durin the service, but sat between me and his mom at the reception. Francie ignored us. Junior danced with both of us, and Kurt danced with Jack's mom. And no, we didn't dance with each other, weren't ready for that, probably never will be, at least out in public. Different story back in our hotel room. Danced a lot that night. Yeah… a lot.

Um, sorry, where was I? Oh, the little things. Yeah. Like which side a the bed we sleep on. Both of us wanted the left side. Finally split the thing, I got the left side in 'my' room, and Jack got the left side in 'his' room. That was back then. Nowadays we still keep my room for show, but spend our nights in his room. I get the left side. Most a the time. Don't really matter so long as it's next to him.

And like doing the laundry. Not stuffing it in, both of us can do that. I mean takin it out a the dryer and puttin it away proper like. Finally just started dumpin all the clean clothes on the bed in Jack's room. No fun stuff until we get it all put away. And pushin it onto the floor don't count. If we're in a hurry, we use my room. Kinda handy at times, having two bedrooms.

Then there's doin the dishes and cleanin up the kitchen. Things started pilin up right from the get go. Used to get to the point we _had_ to do em, 'cause we didn't have nothin clean to cook with or eat off of. One night in October, or maybe it was November, whatever, that first year I made dinner, Jack wouldn't clean up. I could tell he was diggin in. So I got up and left the table. He crowed about winnin, 'til I came back with a deck of cards and spread em out in a line on the table. Told him to pick one, low man cleaned up and did the dishes. He balked at first, so I went ahead and pulled out the nine of Diamonds. He smiled and said somethin about easy pickins, until he pulled out the two of Clubs. Lots a bangin around in the kitchen as I read the paper. Surprisin we still have plates left at all.

Since then, we always keep a deck handy. Never know when we'll need them cards to settle a disagreement. Even have one on the side table next to the bed. My side. Use it now and then in there. We both win. Every time.

Yep, it's those little things that make livin with Jack Twist so interestin. They don't cause much of a problem no more. Not that they ever did, not really, tell the truth. Jack's just too easy to rile, and it's hard to pass up the chance a settin off a Twist tirade. Think he woulda figured it out by now.

Anythin else you like to know?

AN: the last part was written for the "Pick A Card Challenge," but I decided to include it in this instead.

2


End file.
